TO THE CHILDREN

There are two secrets about stories that not everyone knows. The first is that in one way or another every book worth reading is true. A really good "made-up" story is just as true as an arithmetic, only in another fashion. The incidents may be fiction, but the meaning must be truth itself. "The Great Stone Face" (page 271), for instance, is a true story. Of course it is not at all probable that any boy ever gazed at the Old Man of the Mountain until he began to look like it; but it is true that a boy is almost sure to become like the persons whom he admires. That is the meaning, the real heart of the story. In "A Dog of Flanders" (page 136), it is not probable that precisely he events narrated ever took place; but it is true that a dog is always grateful for kindness and is happy if he can return it. In the same way, Miss Jewett's "Farmer Finch" (page 299) is true; for a brave girl like Polly would not sit idle because she could not have just the work in the world that she had expected, but would "Do ye nexte thynge," as the old motto puts it. Again, there are stories whose incidents not only never occurred but could not possibly occur, such as Ruskin's "King of the Golden River" (page 3) and Poe's "Descent into the Maelstrom" (page 335). No wicked older brothers ever turned into black stones, and no fisherman was ever swept down into a whirlpool which never existed. You have to do a little more thinking to find the meaning of these stories, but the meaning is there, and to discover it is one of the things that boys and girls can do as well as grown folk.

The second secret is that the real value of a story is the way it makes you feel. After you have read Dr. Hale's "A Man Without a Country" (page 450, for instance, you are almost sure to feel that it is a glorious thing not to have to stand alone in the world, but to belong to your own country, and that you are bound to do all you can to help your fatherland in peace as well as in war. So in "Jackanapes" (page 96), although the young hero is not made at once commander-in-chief of the British army and although he has no more adventures than would come in the way of almost any soldier, yet you close the book feeling that it is a splendid thing to be as brave and generous as hew was. In "The Peterkins are Obliged to Move" (page 373, there is good clean fun; and after you have read it, imitation fun, such as silly practical jokes and stories that are just a little coarse, seems rather stupid and vulgar. You know as well as the oldest and wisest persons on earth that the feelings which come from reading such books as these are good to have.

This preface is not exactly a preface; it is, rather, the text for a sermon. The sermon you can think out for yourselves.

From the book